


Licks

by ledbythreads



Category: Fairy Tales & Related Fandoms, Led Zeppelin, Little Red Riding Hood (Fairy Tale)
Genre: 1968, All the better to eat you with, Anal Sex, Boys In Love, Canon Elements, Canon Era, Dreams, Fairy Tale Elements, Fairy Tale Retellings, First Time, FishieFestFic, Fucking, I though you were the roadie, Kissing, Lots of kissing, M/M, Mild Kink, Oral Sex, Pangbourne, Period-Typical Slurs (about self), Shameless Smut, There are two paths that you can stray from, True Love, True Mates, What big eyes you have
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 21:55:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28874184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ledbythreads/pseuds/ledbythreads
Summary: HAPPY BIRTHDAY FISHIE THEBOOKHUNTER. I am glad every single day that you are in the world. Yoo make my garden grow. Here's to many more years of cahooting. Jimmy and Robert are their own fairytale. They are Just Right. But here's another tale retold.Little Rob Riding Hood meets a tall skinny bad wolf at a teacher training college in Wolverhapton... off he goes with a basket to find his destiny.
Relationships: Jimmy Page/Robert Plant
Comments: 6
Kudos: 18
Collections: personal shaman collective





	Licks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thebookhunter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebookhunter/gifts).



_What big eyes you have. All the better to._ He’s missed his cue. Steps it up. This could be important. _Somebody to love don’t you need somebody to love?_ He can feel those eyes on him now. The stranger in a fur coat just at the edge of the shadows. Sitting with that guy the size of a bear. They are both watching now. Eating this up. Red parts the hood of his hair with both hands. Then he shakes it out and shines. He’s hungry. For this. For the stranger.

…

Red jumps down from the stage as the guy approaches. He feels like a lamb to the slaughter. Naked.

“I’m looking for Little Rob Riding Hood”.

His voice is much softer than Red expected. Gentle almost. He pulls the coat around himself like he’s cold even though the hall is airless and midsummer hot. He looks so small and harmless. Almost.

“That’s me, but you can call me Red”

“Jimmy. Jimmy Page”

The light glints off his rings as he offers a hand. Heavy silver on his little finger. Opal on the index. His touch is like clouds blowing away from the face of the moon.

“I… I know who you are”.

Those eyes flick up again and Red feels like he’s been kicked in the groin. Jimmy licks his lips. He turns over Red’s palm. Traces a calloused thumb over his lifeline. Like he’s going to read his fortune. Instead, he lays an indecent hand on Red’s chest. Tracing the muscles of his breast, and then he pauses like he’s listening to Red’s heartbeat.

“Such strong arms you have. I thought you were the roadie”.

“No… I”

Jimmy lays a finger on his lips.

“Robert, you know who I am, but I know who you might be. Come to my cottage. Peter will give you the details”.

Then he’s gone with Red’s heart still in his teeth.

…

Running running running through a dark forest. Hair in his eyes. Panting. Someone at his heels. The night smells of secrets and blood, lipstick and the blues. A tree root catches his ankle and he’s falling. His head. Spinning. Salt sting of a cut eyebrow. He is trying to crawl when the wolf puts a heavy paw on his back.

The wolf is snuffling at his ear. Nosing at the back of his neck. It paws at him like a dog who wants to be let into their own back door. It tugs at Red’s shoulder with insistent teeth and Red can feel how hard he is already. How much he wants that weight on him. Wants to tangle both hands in the wolf’s soft fur. He rolls over to expose his belly and lets his head fall back. His wolf whines softly and licks at the pulse point of his throat. Paws on his chest. Sharp claws strip away his clothes. Warm rough tongue every place. Red is whining now. The wolf’s hot breath on his aching cock as it nudges his thighs apart. The forest pulses with strange sounds like there is a bassline in the ground beneath him and the trees are crying with feedback. He feels something wild open up in himself like the beginning of orgasm.

Red wakes up wet with the moon in his eyes. Jimmy’s name in his mouth.

…

Red sits on the train with a basket on his knees. Let people laugh. They think what he wears is hilarious in any case. A Scarlet cape. He’d got it from a costume sale at the Hippodrome and if he’s got nowhere in particular to crash that night it doubles up as a blanket. Mostly he ends up back with the Bonhams. John’s mum had made fresh scones last night, and she expects Red to steal some. Makes extra despite her scolding and disapproving looks. He’s spent the last of his pay from the navvying on this train ticket from Birmingham. And a bottle of Blue Nun, because posh wine is surely what you bring to rockstars when you spend the weekend. _Bring a toothbrush_ , Grant had said, smirking, as he wrote out the directions on the back of an old betting slip. Well, Red isn’t a little girl who aught not to talk to strangers. He’s a grown man. And so is Jimmy. Consenting adults. Except he’s still nineteen. He can catch the train back to London and crash at Terry’s place if this goes south. He’s not going to need rescuing, is he?

Red feels a bit lost to be honest. This Pangbourne is all the way out near Reading in the sticks. The view out of the window is getting pretty. The scones are knotted up in a red kerchief like the tarot fool carries. Jimmy won’t miss just one, will he? Red wonders if Jimmy has a sweet tooth. Wonders if his lips taste as much like cherries as they look like they do. If Jimmy is rough in bed or likes it gentle. Probably both, he decides, and bites into the scone, filling his mouth with ideas. If you don’t stray from the path you never get anywhere interesting. Crossroads and dark arches. Smokey clubs and back alleys. Smart girls with dark eyes who take him home and tell him he’s going to be somebody. Men who take him out the back to suck his cock without telling him their name. Then he smiles and they tell him he’s a nice boy and not to pick up strangers because they are dangerous. Jimmy isn’t a stranger now. Red’s met his manager, and he knows where he lives. Anyway, how else is he going to get his heart back if he doesn’t go there and ask for it? 

…

“Come in”

Red hears Jimmy’s voice calling from somewhere deep in the house and the door swings open under his hand like the house itself was waiting for his arrival. He steps inside half expecting the hall to be covered in cobwebs or to disturb a few bats. Instead, it is kitschy and cluttered, and smells of wax polish. It looks like his granny’s house. Red follows the sound of an acoustic guitar playing something recent by the Byrds till he steps into a cool room full of soft light, with wide windows onto the river. It is one of the calmest rooms Red has ever been in. He feels suddenly blessed.

Jimmy is sitting with his Martin acoustic on a vividly floral sofa covered in mismatched lace and velvet cushions and a gaudy lace antimacassar. Jimmy himself is just as jumbled. Muffled up in a motley-coloured crocheted scarf wrapped several times round his long neck, he’s wearing faded jeans and a tshirt for Newport Jazz festival, topped off with a big chunky cardigan and a blanket over his knees. It is the middle of July and Red is hot, and not just for Jimmy. He unclasps the cape and stands in front of Jimmy, his flimsy cheesecloth shirt damp with sweat, clinging to every hard curve, the basket hiding his immodesty.

Jimmy has continued playing. Fingerpicking softly now, something folky Red doesn’t recognise. His expression is hard to read under the waterfall of his hair, but he seems merely professional. Demure even.

“Ah, Robert. Thank you so much for coming all this way. I’m terribly sorry but I’ve been a little under the weather. I’m sure I will be fine tomorrow and we can routine some numbers together. This evening why don’t you make yourself at home?”

Jimmy gestures vaguely at an overstuffed chaise and something that might be an elaborately carved bench or might be an instrument of torture.

“If you don’t mind awfully, perhaps you would be so kind as to make us a pot of tea?”

“Sure, I make really good tea. I brought some scones from my mate’s mum. John? He’s a drummer. We used to be in a band together. Band of Joy? Anyway, she makes lovely scones. Do you say scowne or scon? Delicious regardless. Everyone says so. I mean if I’d known you were ill, I’d have brought soup. Probably. I mean in a thermos obviously or it’s none too clever on a train with all the sloshing you’d not have got much would you? Without a thermos. But scones are probably good for a cold. You haven’t got the flu have you? I guess you wouldn’t feel up to playing if you had the flu so just a cold I expect. And records. I brought records…”

Red brings himself up short. He tends to ramble when he’s nervous. He can cope with slick princes putting their pretty hands on him and then getting someone else to invite him to their home. Flirtation is a life skill and Red is the best in seven counties. But this sweet thing all woolly and dishevelled. He’s adorable, and adoration makes Red want to fill up the silence with words so he doesn’t do something stupid like just scoop Jimmy up and pop him in his pocket. What on earth must Jimmy think?

Jimmy is watching Red with his lips slightly parted and the lightest blush. He smiles and it’s the sun that lights the day.

“How thoughtful, Robert. I feel a little better already.”

…

It is hard to sleep in a single bed when you are in love. Jimmy Jimmy Jimmy. Red puts his own hand over his beating heart but makes quite sure to keep his other above his waist. He’s saving himself. Jimmy is so dreamy, so sweet, so polite. So buttoned up. So untouchable. This has been the best night of his life despite the fact Jimmy has kept his legs firmly shut.

Halfway through the first scone and Jimmy started to talk about music. It illuminates him. Red, kneeling on the Persian carpet with a bone china teacup forgotten in his big hands, drinking Jimmy’s words instead. William Blake and Skip James. Kaleidoscope and Christina Rosetti, Otis Rush and Dylan Thomas. Jimmy knows everything, and even better, he feels everything too. Red can see it in his eyes and the way Jimmy can’t keep his hands still. The way his fingers flex into chord shapes even when his hands are empty. Red just can’t talk like this with anyone else or they think he’s a nutter or a fag. Soon the floor is strewn with records and books and Jimmy is down there on the magic carpet too and he’s unravelled the scarf from his neck and he’s breathless. Robert is drinking the wine from his teacup but Jimmy has not touched a drop. They are laughing, drunk on each other, and Jimmy is kneeling, flushed, his hands trapped under his thighs. Eyes on Robert’s lips.

“Sing for me. Robert”

So shy.

Anything anything anything. He’d do anything for him. To him. Fuck. What big eyes you have. What long fingers. What a beautiful neck. All the better to. What soft lips you have Jimmy Page.

“I Can’t Quit You Babe.”

Softly he asks. He’s so soft. What dark eyelashes you have Jimmy Page when you won’t meet my eyes.

Red stands wide legged like Joplin. As close as he dares. Jimmy kneeling clasping his hands into fists. Red gives him everything he has to give. And more. His banshee wail. His soul. From his feet, rising like a storm as Jimmy’s eyes travel up his body. Jimmy’s jaw slack, eyes heavy. Mouth open enough that Red can see his tongue before he swallows. Jimmy bends forward towards Red like he’s going to touch him, take him, suck him, claim him. But he doesn’t. He just locks his gaze, eyes like quicksilver, and Red is fucking him from three feet away. He can feel his voice in Jimmy’s body. Way down inside. Heart wide open. Heart in Jimmy’s hand. Then as the last notes fade away Jimmy turns and scrambles to his feet and into the night. Out onto the decking where Red can see him holding onto the rail and shaking.

When he came back in, he’d kept his distance. Put his guitar between them for a couple more songs and then he’d shown Red to this neat little room. The candy stripe cotton sheets. A small row of children’s books. Goldilocks and the Three Bears. Wind in The Willows. A Child’s Treasury of Verse.

A round window onto the river.

“Goodnight Robert”

Don’t go don’t go don’t leave me this way.

“Night”

“Sweet dreams. I hope you sleep well here. I always do.”

If I sleep at all, I will dream of you, Jimmy Page.

“Thanks. It’s been a long day. See you in the morning.”

The last few words are going round and round in Red’s head like a carousel. Hands above his waist but they are Jimmy’s now. The memory of his hand on Red’s chest after the gig, his thick thumb in Red’s palm.

_I know who you might be._

Red’s own hands wander to his nipples, to his throat. Jimmy’s finger on his lips. _Shush now_. To the soft skin under his arm as Jimmy holds one arm over his head. Snuffles at his neck. Licks into his mouth. Touch me touch me. Jimmy Page. I’ll be your wild thing to tame. I’ll be your dog if you will have me.

Ask me.

He can hear his own heart beating in Jimmy’s hand. He’s in love with the fortune teller. _What will be, will be_. The moonlight is spilling through the window, bright with knowing. Red can feel himself changing. All his senses are keener, he can smell Jimmy’s scent and he can’t keep away. Out of bed, naked, Red wraps the thin patchwork quilt round himself. Something is calling him home.

…

He finds him standing by the river. Moonlight on his hair. Framed by the wide windows he looks like a woodcut or a shadow puppet from a Victorian lantern show. Red goes out to him. This is where he is meant to be. This is the path. This is the choice. Here is his fortune for good times and bad. Jimmy is his destiny. The night smells of jasmine and the thick wet suck of the Thames. Red’s feet, bare on the smooth boards of the decking, are quiet but not silent. Jimmy turns and watches him come. Unreadable. He’s still fully dressed, with the fur around his shoulders, like a Roman soldier of the watch at Hadrian’s wall.

Red lets the quilt fall and waits, clothed in starlight.

Do what you will. Jimmy Page. 

If you never stray from the path you will never feel truly alive. He can feel the bassline under the water. The feedback in the trees. His song still on Jimmy’s skin.

“Yes”

Nothing soft in him now. Almost a growl. Jimmy holds out his hand and Red goes to him. Grabs Jimmy’s wrist and they are on each other. Full body together. Mouths full and hungry. Jimmy wraps him in the coat while Red tries to rip away his tshirt. Chest on chest and belly to belly grinding hips together. Pawing, biting. Panting and whining.

“You came.”

Not enough breath to answer. Grinning into his neck. A gasp. Hand to Jimmy’s crotch to feel him hard and heavy.

“Not yet.” Grin.

Jimmy’s trying to undo his own fly and failing. Red pries away Jimmy’s fingers and sinks down to do it with his teeth. Somewhere across the river cats are mating and Red wants to yowl with them. Fucking button flies. He yanks and the last two pop off and roll across the decking like eyes. Jimmy’s musk is driving him mad. Finally. Cock out of his y-fronts Red holds Jimmy’s hips still just to look. Just to remember this moment for all time.

Quarter inch by quarter inch he sucks his cock. Singing is not the only god given talent Red has, and he’s going to do this right. Soft folds of fur against his bare skin. Jimmy’s hands buried in his hair, all he wants to do is please him, but Red knows that to please Jimmy he needs to be an equal. Jimmy is a lone wolf looking for a pack. If Red were being hunted, he’d have been fucked and forgotten hours ago. He’d have been fucked and forgotten in the car park of a teacher training college in Wolverhampton.

Red pulls back a little and looks up at Jimmy looking down, he sucks harder and swirls his tongue, gratified to see Jimmy’s eyes roll back in his head. That’s enough. He wants to see much more. Red climbs Jimmy’s body and finds his mouth.

“Take me to bed. To _your_ bed.”

Jimmy swings the fur round Red’s shoulders and tucks himself gingerly into his jeans. Red strokes his own cock and watches Jimmy blush. He follows Jimmy into the house.

…

“In the light.”

“What?”

“I want to see you in the light, Jimmy”.

Jimmy’s bed is still made up. Flat green counterpane. The furniture is Art Deco and the lamps he lights have coloured glass shades. Jimmy pushes Robert onto the bed. They are just themselves now, both in their skin. Both scared solemn by how sacred this feels. Fur coat and Jimmy’s clothes puddled on the floor. A soft breeze through the window.

“You are beautiful Robert. Do you know? Really?”

“I don’t know anything except I want to be here. With you.”

“And in the world? Will you come with me?”

“Why else am I here with a big bad wolf if not to be reborn?”

“Don’t I get chopped to pieces in that story?”

“Not if I’ve already kissed you”.

“What if I’m bad?”

“I’m not going to call for help. I think you’re safe”.

“What a big cock you have”.

“Isn’t that my line?”

Jimmy crawls up and over him and tugs Robert’s hands over his head and they kiss for a long time. Robert feels this is how it will always be. Skin on skin and all things possible yet to come. Jimmy’s tongue in his mouth and hands in his hair. Rolling together like cubs, slick with each other’s sweat. They are wild and wanton and perfect. Jimmy is everything Robert has ever dreamed of. All his tall tales come true.

“Fuck me”

Jimmy is rocking against him. Legs wrapped round his hips. Robert spits on his fingers and reaches down to see if Jimmy can take him. Jimmy gasps and squirms against his fingers, hiding his face in Robert’s neck.

“Robert I…”

Fuck, every time he says his name it’s like Robert almost comes.

“I… I never have.”

Oh darling. Oh Jimmy. Fuck yes. Oh god, he won’t last. He will. He will. He will make it beautiful for him. He’s going to lose his mind. He has never wanted anything more.

He’s going to mate him, be inside his belly. This is so intense it is going to shuck them open like clams.

“Something slippy.”

“Right. Like Vaseline”

“Perfect”

“I don’t have any…”

They are absolutely going to do this. Robert is absolutely going to be the first person to fuck Jimmy Page in the ass if he has to break into a neighbour’s house like a cat burglar.

“Butter”

“in the pantry”

“you have a pantry?”

“is butter ok?”

God he’s so fucking gorgeous when he blushes. Robert circles Jimmy’s asshole lightly with his index finger. Feels him shiver.

“All the better to… Eat. You, With. My dear.”

…

Butter acquired lickety split, Robert comes back to find Jimmy sitting with an armful of silk scarves.

“Tie me”.

Oh lord take me now.

“Sure, baby”.

Robert crawls up over the bed. Feels himself prowling. Alpha.

He hums over Jimmy’s skin. Licking as he goes. He ties Jimmy’s wrists over his head, simply, but not his ankles. Robert wants those long legs tight round his hips again. As soon and as long as possible. He sings over him:

_You know I'm a howlin' wolf, and I been howlin' all around your door  
Well you know I'm a howlin' wolf, and I been howlin' all around your door  
If you give me what I want little girl, and you won't hear me howl no more_

Jimmy is lit. Fierce.

Robert goes to kiss him, and Jimmy bites his lip.

Robert strokes the hair of Jimmy’s chest and down his sides.

Time stands still. Nothing will unbind them once this is done. Nor will they want it to.

“You gotta come first, baby. It’s better that way”.

Jimmy nods. Robert sucks his own fingers and slides off his rings, coats his naked hands in the butter, and holds Jimmy twitching in his hand. 4|4 time. A steady beat. What a beautiful cock you have Jimmy Page. What a beautiful face. When you bite your lip like that, honey, I might die. Give me what I need, baby. Call me.

Robert scoops Jimmy’s ass up into his lap. Back arched. Thighs slack. Keeps up the beat with his left hand and starts to open him up with his right. Key to his lock. Two fingers to the hilt. Rocking.

“More”

Just finger fucking him now, flat hand on Jimmy’s belly under his cock, Robert can feel his fingers twisting and thrusting. He wants to own him. Keep him. Kill anyone who tries to harm him. Come for me, Jimmy. Come for me. Robert dumps Jimmy onto the bed and kneels over him to suck his cock. He’s nearly crying with how it feels. Like he’s the one being eaten whole. They are both shaking. Jimmy pulling against the scarves and writhing, hips bucking up. Jimmy’s making little desperate sounds and Robert is moaning round his cock.

“Fuck me, Robert, please. Fuck me. Make me come.”

They can’t wait, they can’t.

Robert lines up and pulls out his fingers, thrusts back inside. This isn’t how you are meant to do this. Little by little, that’s the way. But they can’t. He’s crying. Really crying. He bends Jimmy double, just fucking him in long deeps strokes. Jimmy is mewling, thrusting up to meet him.

“Robert, Robert”.

He yanks at the ties and gets them off the headboard. Pulls Jimmy into his lap, arms wrapped round each other. Jimmy licks the tears off his face, and they are kissing, whimpering and kissing. Slowing it right down.

“Did I hurt you?”

“Yes. Fuck yes”.

Robert unties Jimmy’s hands and smooths back his hair. Rocking slowly.

“Tell me, Jimmy”.

“Fuck me like a dog. Make me”.

Make him? How do you make Jimmy Page do anything when all you want to do is be his ever truly and curl up at his feet?

_I'm a man  
I'm a rollin' stone  
I'm a man  
I'm a hoochie coochie man  
Sittin' on the outside, just me and my mate  
You know I make the moon honey  
come up two hours late  
Wasn't that a man?_

Anything. Didn’t you say to the moon you’d do anything for him? To him. Anything.

Robert eases out of Jimmy and then pushes him slowly onto the bed. Jimmy is wiry and stronger than he looks, but Robert has been laying tarmac all year and Jimmy can feel it. No scarves this time, Hand in the middle of his chest, he holds him down.

“Touch yourself”.

Fuck his hands are beautiful. He’s teasing them both. Fuck.

Robert feels lightheaded. Feels like ripping the world apart with his teeth. He lets it all go. Manhandles Jimmy onto all fours and mounts him. He loves him. He’s found him. He can never, ever, let him go. Mine, mine, mine, mine. He feels Jimmy melting under him. Wild, strong. Free.

He feels on Jimmy’s belly again and he can feel his cock moving inside him. Jimmy is touching himself, chasing his own pleasure, and Robert can feel the challenge. Feel how to move for him, how to blend and respond. How they are one thing now. One song.

Jimmy drops down. Face in the pillows. Ass up, hand twisting on his cock. Gasping. Robert covers his back. Fucking him deep and hard. Finding the angle that makes Jimmy cry out and curse. Beg.

Jimmy is right at the edge. Robert can feel it like a knife. He rakes his nails down Jimmy’s back and bites into Jimmy’s shoulder and he’s coming and coming and coming. Crying out. Hot cum on the back of Robert’s hand. Oh darling, oh baby, so good, so good, sweet baby. Oh Honey. Robert is biting his tongue to stop himself saying anything, but Jimmy has dragged Robert’s hand to lick his own seed from his fingers, and his ass is still pulsing round Robert’s cock, and Robert’s falling apart. I fucking love you Jimmy Page. Coming inside him. Howling at the moon.

…

“Robert?”

“Yes Baby?”

“I love you too”.

“That’s good”.

“Robert?”

“Yes Baby?”

“So, you said your friend is a drummer? Is he any good?”

**Author's Note:**

> There are lots of reference to Led Zeppelin lyrics but 'Woke up wet with the moon in my eyes' is Robert Plant. 
> 
> Robert sings a verse from Howling Wolf - by Muddy Waters and sings to himself Mannish Boy - by John Lee Hooker.
> 
> Robert call's Jimmy 'Baby' just for Fishie and they tell each other they are in love because this is a fairytale XD 
> 
> ps this is not meant to be A/B/O fic but it is hard to avoid nodding to it with wolves - Jimmy and Robert, like a lot of queer couples, are mated Alpha with Alpha, even if Jimmy might disagree at times.  
> pps I like to think the French TV gig they did in matching Red jeans is a tribute to this universe.


End file.
